


the stars in your eyes and sunsets in your smile

by spiderboyneedsahug



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Bones knows about Tarsus, Friendship, I can’t believe I forgot to add Jaylah fml, I got bored and suddenly this happened, Post-Star Trek Beyond, Sleeping in the rec room with the power of friendship, So if one of them is I'll say so in the notes, Starfleet Academy, Tarsus IV, Tarsus IV is still a fucking problem and Jim hates it, These are NOT compliant with my other stories at the minute, harold they’re gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:43:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderboyneedsahug/pseuds/spiderboyneedsahug
Summary: A series of often random, disconnected ficlets from my Tumblr, featuring our favourite Enterprise crew and their Captain.1. Post-Beyond. After such a long and stressful day, glorious reports and going to Yorktown medical, they were bound to get tired.2. The Academy's Interspecies Ethics class was good -- that was, until they covered Tarsus IV. Jim Kirk was not pleased.[Will add more chapter summaries as I go along.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I, uh... my hand slipped? And this came out, naturally. So here, have a post-Beyond drabble that I wrote at whatever-o’clock in the morning! Hope you enjoy :D

When it happens, Leonard kind of expects it to happen. It’s been a tough few days and possibly one of the most challenging the crew has had since... well, since _Khan_ , really.

It’s after Krall. It’s been what, nearly 15 hours since their last showdown with the megalomaniacal bastard, and most of the Bridge crew has relocated to a (mysteriously) empty rec room in the central HQ, one with what Jim hadn’t hesitated to call the most amazing view of the starbase.

 

The room is pretty damn high up, which might have scared Leonard four years ago, but he’s okay with heights now. The view more than makes up for it anyways.

The synthetic light of the Yorktown base is dimming to match the golden-red sunset that would have been displaying on Earth. The way the light catches off of and reflects against pristine buildings is nothing short of mesmerising, and a welcome change from the pristine white hull of the Enterprise.

 

Leonard feels a pang of sadness at the thought of the _Enterprise_ , Jim’s girl, lying alone and dead on the surface of Altamid, but he buries it. He knows that the ship in construction — the _Enterprise_ -A, apparently — is theirs, but still. He also knows that teams will be sent out to recover personal items and other salvageable items from the wreck of the _Enterprise_ , so he doesn’t fret that much.

 

The gentle murmur of talk in the rec room is a pleasant noise, and one he’s gotten used to. The view takes his attention again.

Leonard would have been in awe of the almost-projection of the sun on the transparent dome casing of Yorktown if he had not been exposed to views more wonderful and unique during their brilliant, but interrupted, 5 year mission. Nebulae refracting light at every wavelength, strange gravitational anomalies around that one white dwarf star, the sunset on Risa...

 

After being pampered by views like those... as much as he likes to gripe about it to Jim, he _does_ love space.

Speaking of Jim...

The man himself is leaning ever so slightly on Leonard’s shoulder, PADD fallen on the unnaturally plush sofa and mouth slightly parted. There’s a bruise starting to form around his left eye socket and the way he favours his left side speaks of bruised, if not fractured, ribs.

Leonard has to sigh; feel just a bit of stress. It only lasts a few seconds though, because Jim’s dozing now and clearly needs his rest. But the way his head rests on Leonard’s shoulder has to be uncomfortable, and will likely leave another impressive ache when he wakes up.

That won’t do.

He taps Jim’s shoulder, “Jim.”

“Jim,” he tries again, shaking lightly for emphasis. Jim stirs this time, eyes blinking open blearily. He hums in lieu of question.

 

“Wha’s up?” He slurs, slowly coming back to. Once upon a time, the kid might have been embarrassed by his lapse in control, his self-proclaimed ‘weakness’ in front of his crew. Not now.

“Nothing’s up, kid. Just thought you might wanna get more comfortable.” Leonard whispers. Spock briefly turns to look at him, checks on Jim, before he turns back to Uhura and resumes talking.

Jim blinks again, rubs his eyes, and shifts on the admittedly small sofa before lying down on it, resting his head on Leonard’s lap. Jim’s legs dangle off the sofa from the knees down, which can’t be comfortable, but he shifts his head a little; it shows that he’s at least _trying_ to get comfortable.

And then the shifting stops, and it becomes obvious that Jim’s asleep. In his lap.

 

He’s a little flustered.

 

Jim’s fallen asleep leaning on him, using him as a pillow, but never on his _lap_. It’s a bit bizarre, but it’s nice.

He can hear Uhura muffling a snort and he sees her pointing at Jim. More specifically, at Jim’s hair, which is sticking up in every which direction and refusing to lie flat. Leonard has to admit, the kid does look like he’s been lightly electrocuted. Maybe he can tame it a little?

He lets his hands wander to Jim’s hair, running through it and gently massaging his scalp. If the way Jim slumps further into Leonard is anything to go by, it’s nice, so he continues with just a little bit less trepidation.

The position of the shadows change in the room as the artificial night falls on the starbase. The room, once a warm orange, is now a peaceful black. Leonard can hear the noise of people and transport in the distance and dim light reaches the room from the streets. Nearly everyone is asleep now. Chekov and Scotty have both monopolised their own single sofas, Sulu is with his family in their home on the starbase, Uhura and Spock are on the only other double couch available.

 

Leonard smiles crookedly, shifting his position as to be comfortable for both himself and Jim.

 _Jim was right_ , he thinks.

It _is_ nice to have a family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this crew and their dumbass Captain.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoyed this!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interspecies Ethics. An okay class, in Jim Kirk's opinion.
> 
> Really, it's a shame that they had to cover Tarsus IV, because he was just starting to like the damned class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insp. Die for You, Starset (great band if you like alternative rock!)
> 
> Because I know you're lost when you run away,
> 
> Into the same black holes and black mistakes
> 
> Taking all my will just to run alone,
> 
> When are you coming home?

It started off nice. He woke up and the sun was shining; a mug of coffee was placed on his bedside. Not really any better way to start a day. And it _was_ just meant to be a normal day. Go to his classes, keep quiet and work hard enough to stay at the top of said classes, finish classes and either go back to the dorm with Bones or head to a bar to unwind. Of course, nothing is a better slap in the face fresh from reality when a day starts good and goes straight to hell in a handbasket.

* * *

Kirk walked into the class -- interspecies ethics, fun times -- and sat down like normal, Bones at his side and quiet as ever. Ever so slowly, people filtered in to the class and settled into their seats, gradually filling out the lecture theatre. The class grew silent as the professor started talking, so naturally, Kirk finds that he’s zoned out a little bit. He forced himself back to attention just a little, if only so that the professor didn’t zero in on him and subject him to a harsh interrogation about… whatever they’re talking about. Kirk looked over to Bones -- who looked as bored as Kirk felt -- and looked back to the professor, staring absently once more. His stylus tapped a steady rhythm into the desk before him, and yeah, everything seemed fine.

That was, at least, until the words _Tarsus IV_ were spoken and flashed behind the teacher on the board. Kirk couldn’t pay enough attention after he heard _that_ , spine ramrod straight and eyes vacant. The stylus quietly clattered onto the desk, so he snatched it up before people could look. Bones stared at him with a somewhat questioning stare on his grumpy face and Jim felt himself go cold. There was shrill noise in his ears and he was suddenly very aware of just how much and how loudly he was breathing. The professor just kept on talking in the same _casual_ tone, as if they weren’t discussing the systematic slaughter of thousands of living beings, and Kirk found himself tamping down a very irrational, scarily _strong_ wave of disgust. Every time he blinked he saw another face greying, glassy eyes set in their skulls like morbid gemstones. His chest was entirely too tight, like glass about to burst into a thousand painful fragments. He let out a tiny, subtle cough in a pathetic attempt to clear his chest.

He was _not_ drunk enough to deal with this shit.

There were clips and information on the massive board at the front of the class. About the fungus, the time Kodos had to send word to Starfleet (but he _didn’t_ ), the _slaughter_. Kirk clenched his jaw and sat quiet, even as the professor threw up the possibility that Kodos’ actions were ‘justified’ for class discussion. Kirk pretended he didn’t recoil when Bones’ hand landed on his shoulder.

“You alright, kid? You’ve gone pale.” Bones whispered. Kirk exhaled a shuddering breath and shook his head.   _No, I’m not okay,_ he wanted to reply back, _I’m not okay._

“I’m fine. I just don’t want to talk about _this_.” Kirk said instead. It lacked the vehemence he wanted it to have and instead sounded like an exhale.

“Neither do I, Jim, but we have to. You want to start?” It’s easy to see that Bones was trying to compromise with him. Jim could see the other students as they talked, an overhanging aura of gloom permeating _everywhere_. So he took a breath in and started talking.

“Fine. I don’t think there is any way in _any_ universe that slaughtering 4,000 people like cattle to save people more _‘worthy’_ can be justified. What makes one person, any one person more worth living than anyone else? What makes a person _worthy_ enough to decide who lives and who dies?! What about the people who hadn’t, I don’t know, proved themselves somehow in Kodos’ eyes? Could that be classified as fair, killing them anyway? ‘Cause I bet you Kodos didn’t personally visit everyone in the colony to see if they deserved to live. What about the _children_ ? Hundreds of the people who got scratched off of that kill list were kids, Bones! Children! They couldn’t do anything to show that they were worthy enough to live, and God, they deserved to live. Nobody should have been killed that early! Or at all! You saw what I saw, Kodos had plenty of time to enlist Starfleet to deliver supplies to the colony. But he didn’t! Only the people who had the potential to be valuable weren’t killed mercilessly, all because of some bullshit homegrown eugenics that Kodos had stashed away in his house. And what would keeping the ‘more valued members of society’ do anyways? If I remember correctly, a whole lot of those ‘worthy’ people wound up _dead_!”

“Jim, I don’t like this either, but you need to calm down. You’re shouting.” Bones reminded him and Kirk deflated back into his seat. He got a few curious looks from nearby people and he felt himself growing uncomfortably hot across his chest and face.

‘Don’t like this.’ What an understatement.

He let his chest unwind from the stress. There was still a knot in his chest, an ugly, living thing that grew with every flicker of his eyes against the board. There was a flicker of the rotten fields of Tarsus and a bubble of nausea burst in his chest, leaving a tight, dry sensation behind. Jim closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, ignoring how heavy and weighted his chest was. He breathed in, chest caught again at the thought of reliving Tarsus. Bones was still looking at him oddly, and the lump in his throat kept crawling further up. He tugged at his collar and swallowed thickly.

There were a few more minutes of class, of _Tarsus_ , before they got let out to their next classes. Jim didn’t wait and launched himself out of the doors, not looking back even when Bones called him (he knew he’d regret that later). He paced towards the bathroom and flung open the doors to the thankfully empty room before throwing himself to the floor of a stall.

He barely managed to crawl over to the toilet before he was retching, body taut on the cold floor that was grimy with god knows what kind of bodily fluids.

 _Tarsus fucking IV_.

He spent a few seconds on the floor, stomach roiling as he tried to piece himself back to normalcy. Normalcy, however, was not forthcoming in the dingy stall.

Bones was going to suspect something, he knew this for sure, but until he asks about it, Kirk won’t bring it up. He shuddered at the taste of bile in his mouth and raggedly wiped his face with a sleeve.

Leaning back, Jim let his back slouch and his head bump against the wall. The floor was decidedly grimy against his fingertips; it nearly wrenched another wave of bile from his stomach. His panic kept receding behind a wall that he distantly feared was shock or instinctive dissociation or something equally as bad, but he didn’t try to stop it — he still had to get back to the dorm before he let himself do anything more drastic, like crying or eating.

A few more minutes passed uncomfortably, him sat against the wall, before he shakily made his way to his feet and unlatched the door. To his relief, nobody was in the toilets, but it didn’t stop him from pacing out into the hallways like the devil was on his tail.

The smooth marble floors sent his footsteps ricocheting around him, the cacophony of sound deafening, yet only just loud enough to keep him from falling too far into his own dark thoughts. He appreciated it silently as he passed the doors holding the classes he should definitely be attending, instead heading towards the safety of his dorm. Walking past some of the glass walls that oversaw the campus provided a pleasant distraction — the trees and brighter, livelier colour scheme was a nice change to the dull, dead walls of lecture theatres.

The cold bit at him when he walked outside, but he kept going anyway, determination to get back home the only thing driving his shaky legs. His dorm came into sight quickly and he walked in, locking the door behind him and dropping his bag near his bed.

Jim flopped down onto his bed, kicking off his shoes and shimmying off his jacket. Despite nearly being face down on the bed, he saw his PADD light up after about five minutes. He groaned and checked the message.

_Cpt. C. Pike: Where the hell are you? Your advanced mathematics teacher logged you as absent._

_Cpt. C. Pike: Answer your damn messages._

_Cpt. C. Pike: If you don’t respond in the next five minutes, I’ll have your ass in disciplinary._

Finally, Jim relented and punched out a response, in no mood to talk.

_Cdt. JT. Kirk: did you know about interspecies ethics? What they were covering_

A response came through almost immediately.

_Cpt. C. Pike: No, I don’t know what you guys are covering in class. I’m not a timetable._

_Cdt. JT. Kirk: it’s tarsus._

_Cpt. C. Pike: You just came out of Interspecies Ethics, right? Are you okay?_

_Cdt. JT. Kirk: fuck no. i am not fine_

_Cdt. JT. Kirk: you checked my record before I sealed it, you know what happened. You goddamn know why i’m not in class_

_Cdt. JT. Kirk: if you want me to sit through a whole semester of that shit you’ve got another thing coming. you want me to say that bastard might have been justified, killing thousands of people? if I have to sit through this for a semester i’ll throw up again_

Jim turned off his PADD and chucked it onto the floor, pulling his comforter over himself and dumping a pillow on his head. Kirk groaned and closed his eyes, ignoring the way his heart _still_ pounded with the last vestiges of adrenaline. He rolled onto his back and faced up to the ceiling, eyes widened and distant. His fingers moved over to his ribs, almost of their own accord, and traced over the contours of the bones -- not sharp and protruding, not like they were on Tarsus.

Normal.

He sighed. The panic was still there, if anything at a distance, but it was more manageable. Sure, his chest was still tight and his head was still buzzing, but he could breathe.

He heard the dorm door close and footsteps met his ears.

“Kid, you here?” He heard Bones say, and he made a noncommittal noise in response. It wasn’t the first time Jim had skipped a class (although it was mostly due to sickness, allergic reactions or some other boring thing) but it still wasn’t common. Even for him. Bones rounded the corner from the small entry to the dorm into the living area. Jim waved a limp hand from his bed, lifting his head just enough to be able to see where Bones was through the doorway. The older man’s expression morphed into a frown at the sight of Jim, buried in comforter and absent.

“Shouldn’t you be in class right now, kid?”

“Shouldn’t you? Be in class, I mean.”

“I’m on a free. You, however, should be in your fancy maths class. Why aren’t you? And why did you freak in ethics -- I know it’s a tough topic, but you- you _ran_.”

Jim winced. As if he needed a reminder about how- how pathetic that was. He blinked and sighed.

“It’s nothing.”

“Well it obviously is, because you _ran off_ .” And yeah, Jim started to get slightly annoyed here. He knew that Bones was just trying to be a good friend, but he was just too _raw_ to even think about explaining himself. Bones’ body language was tense, expecting an answer, and the response that bubbled out of him was one borne of desperation.

“Don’t remind me! It’s _nothing_ , now leave me alone! Please!”

His voice cracked on ‘please’. Jim forced his face to relax and look normal. Bones’ somewhat angry expression changed into something more neutral, sad even, before he frowned and turned out of the bedroom.

“Alright, Jim. I’m gonna put on something to eat, you hungry?”

He thought about this. No, he wasn’t hungry. His stomach would not be able to handle anything solid.

“I’m, uh. Yes.”

But he had to. Who knew when he’d eat next?

 

He watched silently as Bones left the room, heading off to the kitchen. Pots and pans clattered for a few minutes -- Bones was a man of tradition, one who still knew how to cook a damned good meal at that -- before there was quiet again. It kept on for a few more minutes, not entirely unwelcome, before Jim stood up, comforter fallen to the floor, and walked into the living area.

It was reasonably spacious, given that it was a dorm, and the view looking out on San Francisco’s bay was a relaxing one. He could hear water boiling from the open pan kitchen behind him and Bones’ movements in the space, but he didn’t turn. He instead collapsed into one of the couches looking out on San Francisco and gazed out vacantly. The other sofa groaned as Bones sat down on it, not-so-discreetly peering at Jim.

“You’re not looking so hot, Jim. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine.”

The quiet continued, albeit a lot lighter with Jim’s subtle admission. Bones stood, patted Jim’s shoulder reassuringly and went back over to the kitchen. He stood slowly, dawdled into the kitchen and sat at one of the stools next to the central island. A steaming bowl of broth was placed in front him, the aroma enticing and already soothing the ache in his stomach that had settled during Ethics.

He still didn’t feel like he could eat, but he put the first spoonful to his lips and tasted it. There were vegetables in it, at the bottom, and a few other tastes he couldn’t quite place, but it was good all the same and made it a lot easier to have the next spoonful. And the next. And the next, until he had settled into a slightly faster than comfortable rhythm. He ignored the stare he could feel boring a hole into his head and slowed his pace, taking the time to savour the taste of good food and take notice of how hot the broth actually was. Kind of painful, now he thought about it.

As soon as he was done he stood, walking to the kitchen and washing his dish. The ache in his stomach was mostly faded; definitely a better sensation than the collapsing ache of starvation that had taken up residence as soon as he saw the words Tarsus IV in class.

Jim licked his lips and cleared his throat, “Thank you for that, Bones. It was good.”

Bones nodded, “That’s good.”

“I still feel off. I’m gonna hit the hay, alright?”

“Jim, it’s midday. This’ll mess up your sleep pattern.” The note of worry his Bones’ voice was touching. It warmed his heart that he had somehow, against the odds, picked up a friend as good and as caring as Bones.

“I know it will, I just… I just want to go to sleep.”

“Alright. See you later, Jim.”

He smiled crookedly, “Later, Bones.”

With a full stomach, he fell asleep almost as soon as his body touched his bed.

* * *

Staying asleep was a different matter entirely.

 

As opposed to the usual brand of restless and often contemplative thinking that took up his sleeping time, there were images. Focused thoughts. _Screams_.

Tarsus.

He could hear the screams and the cries, see the bodies slamming into the floor like he was still there, watching, a kid glancing into a world of horror that he’d never escape. Guilt that his people, his _kids_ were dying off, starving to death and _it should have been me_ .The desperation tasted like it did then, the sheer, raw terror and the weight of his responsibilities as the most able of a group of eighteen filing his lungs, and he was drowning, choking, _dying-_

“Damn it Jim, wake _up_!”

Jim bolted awake, yell caught in his throat and fist thrusted outwards. It didn’t take long for him to piece two and two together.

He swallowed, the action rubbing at his raw, painful throat, “Please don’t tell me I woke you up.”

“I’m fine, Jim.” Bones responded, and a wave of emotion knocked the air of out his lungs. He curled in on himself, nails carving bloody grooves into his palms.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I fucked up, I’m so sorry-”

“You didn’t hurt me, what’s wrong?”

“Me, I’m wrong, Bones. I’m wrong and I shouldn’t be here-”

“What the hell, kid, hold on. I’m coming over.” Bones muttered. Jim could hear the comforter shift and footsteps approaching and his body felt so _wrong_ -

He flinched when Bones’ hand rubbed his shoulder gently and the panic in his chest rose higher, filling up his lungs until he couldn’t breathe at all. His thoughts were jumbled and his eyes were burning and _God_ , why did it have to be Tarsus?! Why?!

“Him, it was him, it’s his fault, he wanted us all to _die-_ ”

 _“Jim!_ Darlin’, calm down, what’s wrong-“ And those were Bones’ hands running over him, checking up on him, making sure he was okay. And he was _not_ okay. With those broken little shards in his head and the pain in his heart, and Bones still wanted to take care of him.

And he cracked, and it all came tumbling out.

“I was there! Class was wrong, it was wrong, _Kodos was wrong_ , I’m alive! I made it! His methods were _wrong_ because I was meant to die but I didn’t! He picked wrong-“ Jim broke into a harsh sob, burying his head into Bones’ shoulder. He could feel Bones tense under his grip before those warm, caring hands were at his back again, rubbing small circles there.

By the time he had stopped crying, Bones was still cooing endearments and gently rubbing his back. He was slowly pushed backwards so he was lying down and his comforter was pulled over him, being tucked against his sides like he was something precious.

Jim sniffed, “Stay?”

Bones looked at him, expression unreadable, before he sat on the edge of Jim’s bed and ran his hand through the blond’s hair.

“Always.”

* * *

His eyelids were crusty with dried tears when he blinked them open the following morning.

 

Bones was, true to his word, still next to him, laid on the floor on top of his comforter. He felt a little bad for having caused his friend such discomfort, but it was drowned out by the sheer happiness in his heart because  _Bones stayed_. The whole night. Even though it was almost certainly a uncomfortable experience, he _stayed_. Jim didn't know what he had ever done to deserve a friend as brilliant and as caring as Bones, but he was pleased nonetheless.

Slowly, Jim sat upright, slightly woozy from dehydration, and stretched slowly. There was an ache present in the muscles of his arms and a pinching sensation in his neck -- likely from the awkward angle his head was at the night before. He groaned quietly and let his head loll to the sides, revelling in the release of tension from the cracking of his vertebrae. He slowly blinked again, yawned, and tapped Bones' hand.

"Bones."

The man shifted slightly, yawned, and blinked awake, "Jim?" Another yawn. "You okay?"

He considered the question. "No," he replied hesitantly, "but I will be." 

Bones wobbled up onto his knees and rubbed Jim's hand reassuringly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" So much concern in those hazel-green eyes. He sighed, fisting his hand into the material of his comforter.

He glanced at Bones, and then looked at the floor, "Not at the minute, no. I'm sorry."

"Kid." Jim looked up into Bones' eyes, "It's fine if you don't want to talk about it now. I won't push you, okay?"

Jim looked up sharply, searching his friend's eyes for any signs of deceit or anything dishonest.

 

The compassion that was there instead took his breath away and made tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. He smiled lopsidedly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Thank you, Bones."

"No problem, kid."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one here was a response to an ask on my Tumblr. I'm just dropping it here in the hopes that it'll actually format properly ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> Hope you enjoy angst, cuddling and McKirk :D
> 
> I might do a companion piece from Bones' perspective... that could be pretty interesting...

**Author's Note:**

> Most of these works are from my tumblr, jimkirks-rippedshirts.tumblr.com
> 
> I just love this crew of lovable dumbasses


End file.
